


Cops and Robbers

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Holiday: Halloween, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:50:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are handcuffs involved, but nothing too dramatic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cops and Robbers

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from? Maybe I'm using Jim as an outlet to vent my aversion of Halloween costumes? 
> 
> Anyway, somebody suggested that my last story didn't have enough NC17, so I _tried_ to do better this time. (I was thinking that a nice, long stay at that "hospital" where aly is presently receiving therapy might do me some good.  )

## Cops and Robbers

by Sheryl

* * *

Cops and Robbers   
by Sheryl 

Jim Ellison stood perfectly still in front of the tall mirror, scrutinizing the reflection before him with obvious disdain. What in the hell had he been thinking when he'd let himself be talked into this? There had been a time, he recalled, not so long ago, when his formidable reputation would have dissuaded anyone from even daring to suggest he do something so...so...undignified. He couldn't help wondering what had happened to that reputation? Had he changed? Was he slipping? Nah, couldn't be. He felt like the same person. Yet there was no denying it; that was his own reflection looking back at him, wasn't it? 

"Jim man, do not zone on me here." 

"I'm not zoning Chief." Jim tilted his head thoughtfully, still fixating on the enigma in the mirror. 

"Look at you! You look awesome!" Sandburg was grinning, practically beaming at him. "I see that prison life has been good to you, huh big guy?" 

Jim warily regarded the reflection of the younger man standing beside him. The detective considered himself to be a reasonable and fair-minded individual. He loved this man more than life itself. So, naturally he took the kids enthusiasm into account as he arrived at his decision. "This is just too stupid, Sandburg. Get these things off of me." 

"Who'd have thought a person could look this hot in stripes?" Blair was still smiling, bouncing on his toes. "I mean, you look good in everything you wear Jim. You always look good...well, except for when you wear that flowered apron -- not that you don't still look good in it -- it just reminds me of that lady on that cooking show..." he grimaced and shuddered for effect... "but who'd have ever thought..." 

"Now, Chief!" 

"Now?" Blair's exuberance faltered slightly, he stopped bouncing. "Now what?" 

"Now, get these off of me." He clenched and unclenched his jaw. "Look, I'm sorry Chief, but there is no way in hell that I am wearing this out...anywhere!" 

"Whoa, wait a minute..." 

"No, now." 

"But Ji-im..." 

"Save it, Chief. I am _not_ changing my mind." 

"Oh come onnn..." 

It was true, Blair Sandburg, grad student and almost Ph.D, had stooped to whining. This particular strategy was usually used only as a last resort. On a good day, with enough time, it could really get on Jim's nerves, wear him down -- even change his mind. However, it wasn't going to work this time. The tension in the detective's jaw spoke volumes. His resolve would not be broken. 

Jim scowled at the boldly striped image in the mirror. He didn't do costumes \-- maybe disguises -- if he were working undercover, that is. This, in contrast, was a costume and a really stupid looking one at that. This was not an undercover assignment, it was a Halloween party and unfortunately, whether Sandburg liked it or not, Jim Ellison of Major Crimes was not dressing up in this absurd looking get up, it was simply not going to happen. Besides, he thought as he glanced at his partner, Blair looked like a total geek in that fake cop uniform. 

"C'mon Jim. It'll be fun." 

"Get these goddamned handcuffs off of me now, Sandburg. I mean it!" 

"Okay, okay. Just let me...find the...keys." Blair frowned, defeated; he knew when to give up. With a long-suffering sigh, he dug in to the pockets of the pants he was wearing and then he patted himself down and then he got a puzzled looking expression on his face. "Shit!" 

"What?" The detective raised an eyebrow. 

"Oh man, Jim. Uhhh...just hold on a minute," Blair told him calmly. Well, as calmly as he was able to at the moment -- with his whole life passing before his eyes. "They're here somewhere. They've got to be here somewhere." Okay. Think, Sandburg. Think. When had he last seen them? Where had he last seen them? Hold on a sec...there were keys, weren't there? Weren't there? Oh God! "Shit!" 

"You've said that all ready, Darwin. Tell me one thing...there _are_ keys, right? You do have keys?" 

"Of course there are keys, Jim. Geez, do you think I'd put cuffs on you if I didn't have keys?" 

Jim was clenching his jaw, again. "Well then, unless I'm under arrest, I'd appreciate it if you could get these cuffs off of me -- now." 

Shit. Jim was sounding way too calm and deliberate for Blair's peace of mind. Schooling his features as best he could, the anthropologist chanced a glance at his much bigger counterpart. Jim was smiling. Blair looked away. Definitely not a good sign. It was _that_ smile. That calm, cold, dangerous -- I know a thousand and one ways to kill a man -- smile. It probably should be registered with some law enforcement agency, Blair mused. At the moment, he had to admit that it was scaring the shit out of him. 

Briefly he wondered if his will was up to date, then he remembered that he didn't even have one. His mind flashed to an image of Jim being led away to prison, wearing the costume he had on right now. This would undoubtedly _not_ be a good time for hysterical laughter, so he thought about the cooking lady in Jim's flowered apron and shuddered. 

His Book bag! Why hadn't he thought of that? Well, aside from the fact that he didn't actually remember putting any keys in his book bag and the fact that he didn't actually remember _any_ keys -- period; he grabbed it anyway, unlatched it and dumped the contents out on to the floor. "shit." 

Very neatly, he stacked the books, shaking them a little first to dislodge any small objects that might -- by an act of God, have miraculously fallen from somewhere out of the great abyss and - be hidden between the pages. Next he shuffled and sorted through papers, folders -- yuck, an old, shriveled up, brown apple. "Gross, man." Paper clips, pencils, white out...highlighters...change...crumbs. "shit." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. 

"Jim, I was thinkin'. Ya know buddy, we don't have to go to this dumb ol' Halloween party tonight." 

"Really." Again the jaw clenched. 

"Yeah. I-I'd rather stay home with...with you anyway." Blair smiled nervously, looking up at his lover with round, blue, adoring eyes and for a fleeting moment he actually hoped...he hoped what? That Jim the detective would forget that he was sporting handcuffs? Or maybe that Jim the sentinel had temporarily lost his senses and would think Blair was totally calm and had everything under control? Maybe a really good blow job would make him forget this whole thing? The latter had definite possibilities. 

"Blair, love of my life, if you don't get these fucking hand cuffs off me..." 

"Geez Jim, what do you think I'm doing here?" Blair snapped out of his reverie and shoved his things back into his bag -- except for the apple and crumbs. 

"I don't know what you're doing. I have no idea what you are doing, but might I suggest that you find those keys?" Ellison smiled, a grim smile... _that_ smile. "Now." 

"I-I'll be right back." 

* * *

Detective James Ellison sat on the edge of the bed. In a professional manner, he calculated the facts, along with the circumstantial evidence. He could only come to one conclusion. Sandburg didn't have the keys and Jim was fairly certain that he'd never had the keys at all. With that easily established, he figured that he now had two viable options. He could either be angry and make the kid suffer, or he could sit back and enjoy the show. Either way, the most important fact was, he thought with a chuckle, he was off the hook with the whole costume party thing and Blair had no one to blame but himself. 

It didn't take sentinel abilities to hear the kid downstairs, rummaging through the empty clothing bags that the costumes had come in, opening and closing drawers, digging through pockets. Tsk...tsk...there was that nasty S word again. 

* * *

"Chief? How's it going?" 

A slightly out of breath and very contrite looking Blair appeared at the top of the stairs. "Jim, I'm sorry. I don't...I can't..." 

"How about this one, Chief," Jim offered patiently. "Jim, I'm sorry. I never even had the keys to begin with." 

"I never had the keys to begin with?" 

Jim nodded. "Close enough. Now get _my_ keys." 

"Your keys?" 

"That's right. Get my keys and get these damned things off of me." 

* * *

"It worked!" Blair was amazed when the handcuffs snapped open. "Why didn't we just do this in the first place?" 

Jim sighed and began rubbing his wrists, rotating his arms, working the tiny bit of stiffness from his shoulders. "Take that ridiculous looking costume off." 

"What?" Blair looked down at his attire and then back up at Jim. "Ridiculous?" 

"Extremely." 

Blair turned to check himself in the mirror and then with a resigned shrug, began unbuttoning the dark blue shirt. "Ridiculous? You really think so, huh?" 

"I know so." And then Jim, suddenly clad only in a pair of boxers and a smirk, was standing in front of Blair undoing the dark colored slacks. 

"So, I guess this means that you don't want to play cops and robbers?" Blair gazed up into the taller man's face. 

"Sure I do, Chief." With a twinkle in his eye, Jim ducked his head, capturing his lover's full lips with his own. His hands skimmed up the softly furred abdomen, pausing to tease and caress before sliding Blair's shirt from his shoulders. "But, we're going to play a different kind of cops and robbers tonight," he whispered and moved to stand behind the smaller man. 

"Ohhh..." Blair watched in the mirror, mesmerized as Jim ran his hands over his chest and slipped one into the open fly of his pants. He closed his eyes when he felt the warm breath in his ear. 

Jim fondled him, rubbing his palm over Blair's erection and then he slowly drew his hand out and pushed the pants down to the floor. Blair kicked them aside. Jim ran his hands very slowly upwards, teasing the inside of younger man's thighs, then up over the hips, tracing patterns over the sternum, lingering over the chest, over the shoulders and then down his arms, pulling the limp appendages behind his lover's back. 

-Click- 

"Uhhh...Jim? What are you doing?" 

"I'm placing you under arrest, Chief," the sentinel breathed into his ear as he secured the other hand. "You get to be the bad guy." 

"Under...arrest?" Blair instinctively tugged against his restraints, his heart rate picked up and his breathing became more rapid. 

"You're okay." 

Blair nodded. "Under arrest," he repeated, taking a deep breath. It was difficult to think with Jim's tongue in his ear. The warm, seductive whispering and the wet tongue were driving him crazy with desire. 

"Uh-huh." Jim traced the shell of Blair's ear, then nipped and tugged at the lobe. "You know that means I'll have to do a thorough body search." 

"Oh man." Blair was panting, leaning heavily against his partner, his legs feeling weaker by the minute. 

Jim's hands continued to glide over Blair's heated skin, stopping from time to time to stroke and fondle his erection, teasing and then moving away. 

Blair watched in the mirror, through heavy lids as Jim's sensitive hands roamed over his torso. He couldn't ever remember feeling this aroused. He wanted to touch Jim too. Touch him or hold him or just hold on. If Jim didn't do something soon, he was afraid he would either pass out or explode. 

Then Jim was in front of him again, kissing him deeply, his hands kneading Blair's ass, his thigh putting pressure between Blair's legs. He felt a slick finger slide between his cheeks and wondered very briefly when it was that Jim had managed to gain access to the slippery gel, but as the finger penetrated him, he decided that he didn't really give a shit. He pushed back against the finger and then forward grinding himself into the thigh. "Jim...can't...hold on." 

"Sure you can baby." The older man whispered, his lips brushing against Blair's. He inserted another digit and nipped at the swollen bottom lip. "Sure you can." 

Unable to find his voice to protest, Blair could only shake his head \-- or at least thought he had; at the same time he felt himself moving, being moved and falling, being turned and shifted. Jim entered him in a long smooth stroke and he gasped at the sensation of being filled. "So good." 

Jim held still for a long moment, reveling in the feeling. He loved the sensation of being buried deep inside of Blair, possessing him, owning him. A strangled whimper from his lover kept him from a possible zone out. "Love you Blair," he whispered and began to undulate. 

"Jim," was the only word that Blair managed to get past his lips. His thoughts were a bit scrambled, he knew that he wanted desperately to touch himself, but his hands were secured snugly behind his back. 

Jim knew that he couldn't last much longer. The sight of his beautiful Blair, naked and handcuffed, had been almost too much from the beginning. He could sense from the temperature of the fevered skin and the quickening of the already racing heart, that his lover was close, teetering on the brink. He picked up the rhythm, thrusting deeper and at last, reached around for Blair's erection. One...two...three... 

* * *

Sentinel and Guide relaxed on the balcony, enjoying the unusually warm, late October evening. They watched, commenting with mild interest, the steady procession of costumed "trick or treaters". 

"I'm glad we stayed home tonight," Blair commented and then yawned widely. 

"Me too Chief, me too," Jim answered casually as he unwrapped a bite sized object and popped it in his mouth. 

Blair nodded with a content smile. "I definitely liked playing cops and robbers waaay better than going to any Halloween party." 

Jim glanced at him, complacently. "Maybe I'll have to arrest you more often?" 

"Yeah." He grinned and then suddenly thoughtful, he added, "Not too often though. I don't think my mind _or_ my body could take it." 

Jim chuckled, now focused on unwrapping another piece of candy. "Want one?" 

"Are you kidding? No way," Blair grimaced. "How much of that have you eaten anyway? Oh my God, Jim! You've eaten almost the whole bag! Jim...man, you're going to make yourself sick." 

Jim shrugged and popped the candy into his mouth. "It's milk chocolate..." he informed with his mouth full. "Milk is good for you Chief and coconut, that's a fruit, right?" 

Blair rolled his eyes and looked away. "Riiiight Jim." 

* * *

End

 


End file.
